by Charlie
Those were also the times that he was most aware of his own earthly existence; realizing that he lived inside a shell of flesh which allowed him to see and hear and feel, yet which also kept him separate. He was a solitary unit, surrounded by other solitary units, each striving to connect with another, yet never able to fully experience that sense of oneness, of being part of the life energy of the other.
At night, he could look up at the stars and open himself to the vastness of the universe, allowing his spirit to drift and expand, uniting with the pulse of life that tingled through the darkened sky. It was both an exciting, yet dangerously seductive, experience that lured him to leave this earthly existence behind. His life had been varied, full of passion and power, heights of ecstasy and depths of sorrow, exhilarating experiences, punctuating the years of tedium, of waiting … There were times when he wondered if he’d be able to bear the loneliness and solitude. Times when he wondered if he should end his charade and move on to another plane… But then he’d think of her, and know that he had to continue.
He arrived at his apartment building and parked in his assigned spot. When he’d come to Weston three months ago, he briefly considered purchasing a home. Money was no object. Over the years, he’d amassed a sizeable sum, all carefully hidden away from those who would become too curious about his lifestyle and how he supported it, but the effort of buying furnishings and decorating, when his stay would be so short, had seemed pointless. Once he had Stephanie… Well, then he’d see if a house was suitable for his purpose. Instead, he’d temporarily moved into an already furnished unit. His few boxes of possessions had mostly remained unpacked in the closet, only the essentials seeing the light of day.
Exiting the car, he walked up to the building.
“Good evening, Mr. Sinclair.” The doorman nodded and let him in.
“Thank you, Thomas. Beautiful night isn’t it?” He responded politely, having long ago recognized the benefits of staying on friendly terms with those who provided you a service.
“Not bad. A trifle warm though.”
“Just a bit, but the heat doesn’t really bother me.”
“You’re a lucky one, sir.”
“Possibly. Have a good evening Thomas.”
“Thank you, sir. You too.”
Crossing the lobby, he entered the elevator, heading to the sixth floor. Thankfully, no one else got on and he made it to his apartment without having to engage in anymore small talk. It wasn’t that he disliked other people, but rather he was so fixated on Stephanie right now, it irritated to have others interrupting his thoughts. Once he finally had her, his usual sociable nature would appear.
Unlocking the apartment door, he entered and crossed the room without bothering to turn on the lights. He shed his T-shirt and jeans, then walked to the balcony clad only in his shorts. Resting his forearms against the railing, he gazed over the town. Several miles away, Stephanie was probably still lying on her couch reading. He wondered if the chips and dip were gone yet. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten yet today, except for a granola bar and a can of cola. He’d better find something to keep this body fuelled. If he was sick or weakened, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy being with her.
Walking into the kitchen, he threw a frozen dinner into the microwave and leaned against the counter waiting for it to cook. He’d eat, then go to bed, hopefully sleeping through the night. Sleep had been evasive lately—all Stephanie’s fault, he ruefully acknowledged. Thoughts of her consumed him and he was restless and unable to settle. Would he be able to stay in bed tonight, or would he find himself driving by her house at three in the morning as he had so often these past weeks?
It had been easier when he first came to town. He’d finally located her and knew he had to spend time researching her life, discovering what had happened to her since they’d last met. But now, the background work was over. The time for action was upon him and anticipation was playing hell with his sleep, his appetite, his nerves… It had to be this week. If he waited any longer, he’d surely lose all self control and that would never do.
The microwave dinged, signally that his food was ready. He sat down to eat, grabbing the daily paper from the counter where he’d tossed it that morning. The headlines proclaimed that a rash of break and enters were sweeping Weston. So far, no one had been injured and the police had few leads except that the perpetrator was probably a male. A strand of dark hair had been found caught in the window casings at one of the crime scenes and DNA testing would be done with the hopes of finding a match in the data base.
There won’t be a match, he thought as he eyed a forkful of vegetables. The police were always hopeful, but there never was. Carefully, he plucked a piece of his own hair from the food and let the dark strand fall to the floor before resuming his meal.
*****
That night, Stephanie awoke around three-thirty, hot and sweaty and cursing the broken air conditioner. The T-shirt she slept in stuck to her damp skin and the sheets were tangled around her legs. Finger combing her hair away from her face, she furrowed her brow as remnants of her erotic dream ran through her mind. She’d been in France—though how she knew that, she was unsure—and a man had been with her, caressing her and whispering in her ear in a language she didn’t understand. His bare skin had been hot under her hands and she could feel his muscles shifting as he moved over her, kissing her deeply while he parted her legs with his knee… And then she’d jerked awake, her body aching faintly in frustration.
Ruefully she laughed at herself. Such a scenario would never happen in her real life, but lately her dreams were obviously trying to make up for her sterile existence, becoming increasingly steamier and sensual each night. It could be the combined result of her bedtime reading material and the hot weather, she speculated, while untangling herself from the sheets. Whatever the cause, once again she was up in the middle of the night.
She made her way to the bathroom and, after doing what was needed, wandered into the kitchen in search of a cold glass of water. Finding money in the budget to repair the broken air conditioning unit would have to become a priority, she decided. The heat this summer was ridiculous and she was losing too much sleep. Setting the glass in the sink, she headed back to the bedroom, but veered off course when she heard Coco meowing loudly in the living room. Perched on the window ledge, the cat was staring intently outside.
“What’s the matter, Sweetie?” She scratched the cat’s ears and peered outside, trying to see what had captured her pet’s attention. Coco was staring fixedly down the street. It seemed quiet. Darkened houses lined the silent street with puddles of light from the lamp posts creating a hop-scotch pattern down the road. Stephanie squinted and noticed a dark coloured car pulled up by the curb a few houses down. It was situated between the pools of light and difficult to see. Was there someone in it? She couldn’t be sure. A strange feeling washed over her. It was anticipation mixed with fear, and a sense of a memory, or an awareness, trying to push its way into her consciousness. She frowned and tried to bring it into focus, but as was so often the case, the harder she tried, the more elusive it became until it slipped away completely.
Shrugging, she looked at the car again. “That’s unusual,” she muttered to the cat. “Who would be out this time of night?” She stood in her darkened window for a few more minutes, watching and waiting, though she wasn’t sure why. Finally, she gave herself a shake. It was nonsense to spend the night standing by the window when she had to be up for work in just a few hours. Picking up the feline, she wandered back to her bedroom, intent on straightening the sheets and propping the fan in the window in a vain attempt to draw some cool air into the stuffy room. “Oh well, it’s probably just someone like me who couldn’t sleep because of the heat and decided to take a drive.”
Crawling back into bed, she fluffed her pillow and closed her eyes, soon lost once again in a restless dream world filled with strange locations, ghostly images and someone incessantly calling her name.
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br /> Chapter 4
Thursday morning Stephanie arrived at her store “Fields of Flowers” only minutes before opening time. She’d had to leave work early the previous day to be home when the repairman came to look at her air conditioner. Deciding she’d spent too many sleepless nights suffering with the heat, she had finally broken down and called to see about having the unit fixed. The repair man had charged her an exorbitant amount just to look at the machine, only to announce that it would cost more to fix it than it was worth and she should buy a new one. That, of course, was out of the question. The small savings that she had would never cover the amount needed. She’d just have to make do with open windows and a fan this year.
As a result of that bit of bad news, she’d spent an uneasy night tossing and turning in bed and groggily arose to the annoying sound of her alarm ringing in her ear. A shower had done little to improve her mood and then Coco had slipped out of the house when she’d reached for the newspaper. She’d spent at least a half an hour trying to catch the elusive creature before resorting to opening a can of tuna in order to entice the annoying beast into the kitchen. Some people would have just let the cat stay outside for the day, but Stephanie worried that the animal might wander off and not return. After being alone for so long, the thought of losing her only companion was decidedly unpalatable. Once she’d caught the cat, she’d had to hurry to get ready for work and now she was late.
Of course, being the owner meant certain privileges and being late was one of them, but Stephanie felt guilty about leaving Paula, her assistant and best friend, to do all of the opening up chores on her own, especially when she’d left the woman to do the closing the night before. As she rushed in, Paula looked up from behind the counter and smiled. “Late are we? Now let me guess. You had a date with a dashingly handsome man and spent the night making passionate love until you were exhausted. Then you had to tear yourself out of his arms this morning in order to get ready. Am I close?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes in exasperation. Paula was an unrepentant romantic who couldn’t understand why her boss wasn’t out trawling for men every night. “No, not even close. Coco slipped out and I had to resort to opening up a can of tuna to get her to come back inside.”
“That cat has you trained. Isn’t this the third time that’s happened?”
“Fourth, actually, but who’s counting?” Stephanie stored her purse in the small office at the back of the shop and put on her name tag, which proclaimed her to be Stephanie Fields, Owner. She still got a slight thrill every time she read the little brass tag with flowers engraved in the corner. Her parents had left her a small inheritance, which she’d received when she turned twenty-one. Some good investments had provided her with a tidy nest egg, and, when the store had come up for sale, she’d used the money as a down payment. That was three years ago and at the age of twenty-seven she was the proud proprietress of her own business. Of course, the bank still owned over half, but that was a minor detail. The flower shop was slowly building a clientele and she made sufficient profit that she was able to pay the mortgage each month and Paula’s wages. Her living expenses had to be kept to the bare minimum, but that was fine. She had a roof over her head—also mortgaged—and food. Beyond that, her needs were few.
“What still needs to be done?” She turned over the ‘Open’ sign in the front window and then looked inquiringly at Paula.
“Not much. I’ve refreshed the pre-made bouquets and checked that the flowers all have fresh water. Petty cash is in the till and the orders that have to be filled today are on the counter.”
“You’re so darn efficient; I guess I could have just stayed home this morning then, right?”
“Don’t even think about it! We have that shipment of flowers coming in for the Johnston’s wedding and all those bridesmaid bouquets to work on. The Chamber of Commerce needs centerpieces made up for the Friday luncheon, we have three birthday deliveries all in different parts of town and did you read in the paper that Ben Miller died? There’ll be tons of orders coming in for funeral arrangements.”
Stephanie threw her hands up. “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean it. Don’t tell me anymore. I’m exhausted just listening to you.”
Paula laughed. “So how did it go with the repairman? Was he single? Good looking?”
“No. He was old enough to be my father and he had a receding hair line. He also charged me forty dollars to look at the air conditioner and then told me it was too old to fix.”
“Bummer. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. Sweat a lot. Maybe buy another fan. A new air conditioner is out of the question this year.” Stephanie grabbed a tissue as she felt a sneeze coming on and changed to an equally depressing topic. “I don’t know Paula. These allergy pills the doctor gave me don’t seem to be doing a lot of good.” She punctuated her comment with three vigorous sneezes. “He thinks I’m allergic to Coco, but I’m sneezing and sniffling at work, too.”
“Maybe you’re allergic to flowers.”
“Don’t even think that way!”
“I’m just teasing. You’ve worked here for years without a problem and you’ve had Coco for what? Six months now? And you suddenly develop an allergy? Maybe it’s just a summer cold that won’t go away.”
“Perhaps. I suppose if I actually remembered to take the pills more often it might help, too. But they make me feel sort of strange—foggy and nervous, even a bit paranoid that someone’s watching me. And I have the weirdest dreams… ” She let her voice trail off, not sure if she wanted to reveal the actual content.
“Do they involve handsome, sexy men?” Paula asked eagerly.
Stephanie glared at her friend hoping her face wasn’t turning red. Paula’s comment had hit a bit too close to home. Thankfully the phone rang and the conversation was dropped as the two friends got to work, their social time finished. As predicted, it was a busy day. Stephanie was on her feet all morning and her back ached from leaning over the worktable. With customers constantly in and out, she’d taken no time for lunch, instead asking Paula to bring back a coffee and a toasted bagel when she returned from making deliveries. It was now after two o’clock and the coffee was sitting untouched on the counter while the bagel, now cold and tough, had only one bite out of it.
Smiling politely, she finished wrapping tissue around a single rosebud with an accent of some baby’s breath and fern leaves. “Here you go, sir. I hope your wife enjoys this.” The man had a dour expression on his face and had been studying the store quite intently, almost as if he wanted to buy the place, but found it lacking on several key points. Stephanie wondered what he was thinking. It made her feel odd as if she and her establishment were under a microscope. ‘Maybe he’s having a bad day and is just out of sorts,’ she thought to herself.’ He was handing her some bills just as the phone rang. Taking his money and picking up the receiver at the same time, she smiled apologetically at him. “Fields of Flowers, could you hold for a minute please?” Quickly giving the man his change, she wished him a nice day. After staring suspiciously at the till, his change, and then her, he turned and left. She was pleased to see him leave. He’d made her uncomfortable and she felt sorry for his wife. The flashing light on the phone reminded her that she had a customer waiting on hold. Pushing the incident from her mind, she ignored the growl in her stomach and picked up the phone, politely thanking whoever was on the other end for waiting.
Gazing longingly at her bagel, she took down the particulars for more funeral arrangements for the late Mr. Miller. He’d been a well known and well liked figure in the community, so the number of orders wasn’t really surprising. As she jotted the particulars down on her notepad, the jingling of the bell attached to the front door signalled the arrival of yet another customer and she briefly wished the business wasn’t doing quite so well at present. Paula was swamped in the back, trying to keep up with the requests that were pouring in and Stephanie had said she’d manage the front by herself. At the moment however, she was questionin
g the wisdom of that decision.
All she could see of this newest customer was the back of a dark head set on broad shoulders. He seemed to be busy examining the pre-arranged displays and she inwardly smiled in relief. It was always a bit of a chance, having things pre-made because possibly no one would buy them, but on the other hand, they were a time saver on days like this.
Focusing her attention back on the caller, she repeated the order, confirmed the address, method of payment and the message that was to be on the card. “Great, we’ll have that sent out. Thank you for choosing Fields of Flowers.” Stephanie hung up the phone and then looked at the new customer again. He still appeared to be absorbed in the display, so she quickly turned her back and grabbed a bite of bagel, chewing as quickly as possible. She was just reaching for her cold coffee to wash it down with, when a voice spoke behind her causing her to start and knock the cup over. Brown liquid quickly spread over the countertop.
“Oh no!” She grabbed for the cup and righted it, then picked up the bagel and shook the coffee off of it while simultaneously smiling over her shoulder at the gentleman standing behind her. “Sorry! I’ll be right with you… I just need to clean this up.” The coffee spill was rapidly drifting towards the little stack of cards and envelopes sitting on the counter. Stephanie dropped her bagel in favour of saving the tags. The bagel bounced off the counter and landed on the floor, buttered side down, right in front of the customer’s feet. “Damn!” She whispered under her breath.